


A Drabble of Sherlolly Tales

by theSapphireSky



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Romance, all the tropes!, regency!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-02 07:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11504412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theSapphireSky/pseuds/theSapphireSky
Summary: A collection of short Sherlolly one-shots from Tumblr





	1. In the Garden

**'** Miss Hooper.’

Molly spun around in surprise. She had come out into the garden to escape the throngs of people in the overly warm dance hall. She had not expected to be followed. And certainly not by him.

Stepping closer until the moonlight crossed his face, Sherlock Holmes inclined his head in greeting. ‘I apologize, I did not intend to startle you.’

Pulling her lace wrap closer to hide her shaking hands, Molly bowed in a facsimile of a curtsy. A blush stained her cheeks in embarrassment at forgetting basic manners. 'I was simply lost in thought, Mr Holmes.’

He nodded with a small smile. 'I find myself often lost in my thoughts, as well.’

She returned his smile and willed her heart to remain still and not leap in hope at how his eyes crinkled when he smiled. A softer look than she had ever seen on the brooding man.

'Are you enjoying the festivities?’ She asked when he did not seem inclined to speak.

A grimace flashed across his face. 'I…do not find crowds accommodating. And most people are insipid social piranhas without an ounce of sincerity in their body. Present company most excepted,’ he hurriedly added when she blanched in offence. 'You are rather singular, Miss Hooper.’

An unexpected warmth spread across her chest and she smiled. 'Thank you.’

Mr Holmes nodded. Clearing his throat, he drew his shoulders back. 'There is a reason I sought you out tonight.’ If she were fanciful, she would imagine it was a blush that darkened his cheeks.

'I know that in the past I have made my stance on marriage and love clear.’

Molly winced and her heart clenched in pain at the memory of the day he had unintentionally, but no less cruelly, mocked her affection for him and crushed her hopes under the heel of his boot.

He stepped closer and her breath caught as his eyes, never leaving her face, were brought into the light. Soft and alight with color, they roved her face before coming to rest on her eyes with an intensity that nearly buckled her knees. She lowered her gaze to his chest and waited for the words that would break her heart once and for all.

'Would it surprise you to hear that I may have been mistaken?’

Slowly, she lifted her head. He stepped closer, bordering on indecent, and took her hand. She watched with wide, disbelieving, eyes as he brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss to her knuckles.

'That as hard as I tried to fight against it, I have found my heart is no longer my own.’

Speechless, Molly could only stare at him, unsure if she was dreaming or if it was truly happening.

'If my attentions are no longer welcome, please inform me now and I will never again impose them upon you.’ He spoke softly and humbly.

When she did not answer, he raised his other hand to brush her cheek. 'However, if you would not be averse, I would very much like to court you, Molly Hooper.’

He stilled, his face so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath, see the beat of his heart in his throat.

'Why me?’ She breathed.

'Because I love you,’ he answered.

Her heart thundered in her chest as she searched him for any sign of deception. And found none.

So without thought for propriety or consequence, Molly did what she had wanted to do since the day they met.

She closed the distance between them and kissed him. His arms held her safely and she sighed happily against his lips.

It was soft and chaste.

It was perfect.


	2. Of Betrothals and Birthdays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regency!lock ❤

The sun was rising across the misty hills as Molly made her way through the tall, dewy grass. She breathed in deeply of the fresh morning air and smiled to herself. 

Today was a special day. And she was not going to let one moment pass by unaccounted for.

By the time she reached the edge of the Hooper lands, the air had warmed pleasantly and she unwound the shawl from her shoulders, stowing it in the handbasket she carried over her arm. 

Plucking a few wildflowers, she tucked them into her braided crown and continued on her journey with a happy sway in her step. 

Just a little while later, the mist dissipated enough for her to make out the shadows of a large estate. Her pace quickened and her smile grew. 

And then, standing on the stone parapet, overlooking the lands, a tall figure appeared backlit by the morning sun. 

As soon as he caught sight of her, he disappeared from the patio only to reappear at the bottom of the stairs, striding toward her. 

Molly slowed to a stop when he was just out of arm’s reach. In his suit, perfectly tailored, her betrothed looked the very measure of a Lord.

‘Mr Holmes,’ she demurred, hiding her smile as she curtsied. 

'Miss Margaret,’ he replied, bowing. His eyes twinkled when he caught her gaze. 'It is rather early for a morning walk.’

She tried to hold back her smile. 'It’s not just any morning, though, is it?’ She knew her dimples were showing as she pulled a cloth-wrapped package from her basket. 

'Happy Birthday, Sherlock.’

His ears reddened at her gift and, perhaps, her use of his Christian name. Taking it from her with a smile, he slowly pulled away the corners of what was actually her monogrammed handkerchief, the one she had dropped that first night they’d met, to reveal a wooden box about the size of a book. He lifted the lid and his eyes widened in delight. 

Molly chewed on her lip, bouncing on her heels. She knew he would love the shiny magnifying glass and leatherbound notebook with his initials engraved into both. But she was still nervous. 

It had been a point of contention between them initially, his insistence on assisting the local constable with dangerous crimes. She was concerned not over his ability, but his safety. But she knew she would never keep him from pursuing his passion nor would she want to. And this gift was her saying that she would not only stand by him, but encourage him, regardless of her worries.

'They’re perfect,’ he told her softly in understanding. 'Thank you.’

Not caring if anyone was watching, Molly leaned up on her toes and kissed his cheek. 'You’re welcome.’

She gasped in surprise when he pulled her back and pressed his lips to hers for the first time. 

Her eyes fluttered and then closed as she exhaled in happiness. The basket fell to the ground with a soft thump as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

It wouldn’t do for them to be caught in such a compromising position, despite their betrothal. But for the moment, neither particularly cared.


	3. The Winning Bid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A switch on the auction!trope

“…the youngest Head of Pathology at St. Bartholomew’s in its history. The charming, brilliant, Doctor Molly Hooper!” 

The end of the emcee’s announcement was drowned out by thunderous applause. Shyly stepping on stage, Molly blushed dark red at being the center of attention. She nearly stumbled in the high heels Mary had insisted on loaning her and she felt like she was playing dress up in the elegant floor-length gown Anthea had zipped her up in. 

“The bidding for a lovely date with our favourite pathologist starts at 500 pounds!” 

Immediately, four paddles hit the air. Molly gaped wide-eyed as the bidding war began in earnest. Near the back, Mary was giving her a double thumbs up and winking, then pointing to the drop-dead gorgeous doctor in the front who was calmly leading the pack. 

Molly caught his eye and flushed at the lopsided grin he gave her. His blonde hair hung over his forehead and his green eyes sparkled with interest. 

He winked and raised his paddle, claiming the highest bid yet of 1400 pounds. 

Molly bit her lip and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face. This was turning out to be so much better than the humiliating disaster she anticipated. And what better way for Molly to get over a certain Consulting Detective who refused to admit his feelings than to be swept off her feet by a dashing doctor. 

“3000 pounds!” 

Everyone gasped and looked around to find the booming voice. Molly looked up from the dashing doctor in shock to find Sherlock striding through the crowd toward her with singular focus. 

“3000 pounds, to the newcomer! Any advance on 3000?!” The ecstatic emcee crowed. The men in the crowd grumbled, but offered no bids. From the back, Mary was catcalling and John was cackling. 

Molly couldn’t speak as Sherlock leapt on to the stage and chucked his pocketbook toward the emcee, all without taking his eyes off Molly. 

“Y-you said you didn’t-” Molly finally found her voice. 

“I was an idiot,” he growled and wrapped his arms around her and finally (only took the sod 7 years!) kissed her until her toes curled in those awful shoes and she forgot all about the dashing doctor and her own name.

“I love you,” he said when they parted t9 breathe. Molly beamed at him, her eyes sparkling. “Forgive me. Please.”

“Always,” she promised and sealed it with another kiss.


	4. It's as easy as...

“We are not leaving this park until I see some progress,” Molly declared, crossing her arms over her chest.

Sweaty and disgruntled, Mycroft and Sherlock groaned in unison. 

“She’s bloody impossible,” Sherlock grumbled. “We are two of the most brilliant minds in the world. Surely we can think of a way out of this.”

Mycroft glared at him. “The only way out of this, brother mine, is for you to go back six months and NOT impregnate the woman.”

“I heard that,” Molly called out. Both of the Holmes boys had the decency to look chastened. “Now get back to it. We only have a couple more hours of daylight left.”

Sherlock sighed and put his helmet back on. “There’s no use fighting it. To use an apropos popular phrase, we will just have to get back on that bike.”

Mycroft shot him a withering glare as he picked up his own fallen bicycle. “Oh, do shut up.”

As the Holmes boys once more mounted their bicycles, Molly watched in cringing despair as they proved once and for all that there was something in which they might not ever succeed.

She never expected to discover that neither of them had ever learned to ride a bicycle. And she immediately took it upon herself to rectify the situation. After all, when their son was old enough, she would want to teach him. This would be good practice. 

At least, that’s what she had thought, as she watched Mycroft clumsily roll along, propelling himself forward with the balls of his feet. 

Sherlock almost managed to stay balanced for a full 15 seconds. But when he looked over at her in smug triumph, he immediately wobbled and collapsed to the grassy field in a pitiful display.

Rubbing her belly, she sighed fondly. “That’s your daddy.”


	5. My Everything

“Nanette?”

“No.”

“Yvonne?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Petra?”

“Nope.”

Molly sighed and rubbed her growing belly, trying to hide her smile. “Maleficent?”

Across from her, Sherlock finally looked up from his experiment in analyzing the quality of baby foods and shoved his goggles onto his head, pulling his curls back.

He narrowed his eyes at his wife and deduced her in an instant. “The name of our genetically superior spawn is no joking matter, Molly Holmes.”

Wobbling to her feet, Molly ignored his sour face and rounded the table. Immediately abandoning his experiment, Sherlock wrapped his arms around her and mock scowled at her dimpled face.

“Well, you weren’t paying attention,” she teased. “And we really should start discussing some names. She will be here any day now.”

“Mmm,” Sherlock hummed in agreement and pressed his hand against her belly, smiling when their daughter gave a strong kick to his palm. With one hand still on her belly, he cupped Molly’s cheek with the other and kissed her with all the love he felt. “It’s just difficult to find a name that means ‘my everything’.”

Molly smiled up at him, her eyes shimmering. “I know exactly what you mean.”


End file.
